


sexy, nasty

by egipci



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 10:27:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14830535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egipci/pseuds/egipci
Summary: "Please. I've been so empty." She's grinding against him in earnest now, pace matching the desperation in her voice.“You didn’t touch yourself on the mission, baby?”, he asks as his right hand reaches between her legs. “You kept your promise?”





	sexy, nasty

**Author's Note:**

> (thanks to my man mac miller for the title)

These were always her favorite moments. 

Her suit is all the way by the front door, crumpled on top of her boots. She'll pick them up eventually, but for now she deserves to just be. She moves in the dark, she knows everything by heart. This is home, where they leave the windows open and let the blue light and noise from outside seep in. She'd never thought she's be anywhere like here, that she'd have anything like this. He took her to the suburbs, and she would have followed him anywhere. 

She's out of the shower now, probably still grimy but the stench of the mission is at least covered by the coconut of her shampoo. Pain shoots up to her hips from where her bare feet touch the hardwood floor. She deserves to sleep. She moves to their room, silent by habit, feels her stomach turning like a teenager on the first day of school. A nervous excitement more than anything-she has only been gone for three weeks. 

Okay, maybe she's a little more than nervous. Her heart is racing and she's light-headed. Who would think the Black Widow would be this drunk at the thought of seeing her lover? It feels the same like it did back in the day, when they used to steal moments together. Something about breaking the rules intoxicated her. Those were always her most important missions. Here, outside the door to their room, she felt the most she has felt in the last three weeks. 

The door is slightly open and she pushes it gently. She tries to stop herself from looking at the bed, heads left for the wardrobe across the room instead and puts on one of his t-shirts and a pair of black panties. He always tells her he loves it when she just gets in bed, naked and wet from the shower, but she feels shy, almost, and it's a breezy night besides. The towel pools in front of the open drawer, and tomorrow he'll mock her for the mess. 

She turns to the bed as she hears him yawn. It's dark, but his pale eyes meet hers in the night light. She grins when he smiles, God, she's so in love with him. He's on his back, metal arm closest to her, stretched out on the bed. He's well into her side of the mattress, and his head is on her pillow. Something melts inside her and the knots inside her stomach fade. He's right here in front of her, waiting, familiar as ever. 

She gets in the bed, sighing when her warm cheek meets his warm chest. He runs hot like a furnace, metal arm and all. His arm wraps around her waist, pulling her closer, and her legs lock around his warm thigh. She feels herself getting wet where her pussy is pressed against his strong flesh. His right hand tugs her chin up and he rubs his stubbly cheek against hers for a moment. It makes her toes curl. His mouth finds its way to hers, hot and soft. It's gentle for a moment, mundane, a goodnight or a good morning kiss, but soon it's dirty, all tongue and teeth. Her fingers dig into his bare chest, she can't catch her breath. He knows her so well, knows how to kiss her to make her squirm, to make her rub up against his leg. He pulls back, touches her bottom lip with her thumb. "How was it, baby?" he asks, his voice deep and gravely with sleep. 

Her breath catches at the word. Baby. "Good," she says. It's somewhere between a gasp and a moan. She and their friends had bullied him out of all his old-fashioned endearments: doll, sugar, sweetheart. She loved it when he said her name. Natalia or Natasha or any variation, she still aches when she remembers the times he'd forget her name. He'd always come back, driven by instinct, but sometimes the pieces wouldn't come back together. She was his student, nameless, only she remembered her own name. She loves the way it falls from his lips, though. Baby. So fluid, easy. Does he call her baby when she's not around? My baby and I went to the movies. My baby has been away at work.

Her hand snakes its way up his chest, past his dog tags, brushes his nipple innocently and his eyes fall closed. Her fingers go to massage his scalp, the nape of his neck, that spot behind his ear. She jerks back suddenly, and she feels a laugh deep in his chest. Violets and oranges are coming from outside, it must be five now, and she notices him for the first time. "Nice hair," she teases, but it really is. He looks like his picture in the history books, at the Smithsonian. His hair is cropped short, something out of the forties, split in the side and fringe falling into his eyes. He looks so young, like her soldier back from war, the most like Bucky Barnes he has looked in decades. He grins at her, "I only make bad decisions without you". 

"It's not so bad," she breathes into his neck, teasing with her tongue and teeth.

"I missed you, you know," she can hear the earnestness in his voice. It makes something ugly swell inside her, shame or hurt.

"I'm sorry I had to cut off comm. It was the only way," she explains. She had to improvise, she told Nick, who sat her after for hours and yelled about responsibility and safety and team work. He forgets she was trained by the Winter Soldier.

"Knew you'd be fine, just missed your voice. Had to get into those videos, watched them every night". She moans, her pussy is contracting on its own, empty and wet as she rubs her hips against his thigh. She thinks about him on their bed, splayed on his back with his hand around his cock, watching them make love. It makes her hungry, her lips latching onto his nipple. He groans, metal hand on her ass and flesh hand in her hair. "You look so good on my dick, baby. You love it, don't you?" She moans, pushing her ass back into his hand and then bringing her clit hard against him. 

His fingers tighten in her hair. He's not pulling, but she knows he's telling her to let up, gives a parting bite to his nipple. She breaks off and a string of spit is trailing off her mouth. She licks her lips and looks up at him. They have barely moved since she'd come into bed. His mouth finds hers in another kiss, long and thorough, like he's trying to drink her up. His fingers hook around her hip-bone pushing her off him, and she groans at losing the friction between her legs. For a moment she's relieved, she thinks he's getting inside her now. She does love his cock, the girth of it inside her, deep into that spot she didn't know existed before him. She has been in this body a long, long time, almost as long as him, but only with him did she learn pleasure. 

She doesn't end up on her back, though. She's so drunk on him, and in a second, she's on her left side, back against his chest. He pulls her into him, both arms around hers. His right leg is over both of hers, heavy and strong, trapping her against the bed. His lips are in the crook of her neck, kissing languidly, stubble deliciously scratching her skin. He's so slow, relaxed, as if he'd just woken up from sleep, as if she wasn't writing against him just a minute ago. She can't move, her hands and legs are useless. All she can do is stick her ass back against him, grind on his hard length through the layers of her underwear. His breathing picks up a little, and he moves his hips ever so slowly, but when he asks her "how you doin', baby?", his voice is controlled. 

"I want to come," she whines with a slow, deliberate move of her hips. 

"Oh, me too. But you know how long I had to wait?" It's almost condescending, the tone of his voice. It makes her so wet, her underwear must be a mess. Her skin is burning up under her shirt. She wants him so bad, but she's too tired to fight. Her bones ache and she missed him in control like that. 

"Please. I've been so empty." She's grinding against him in earnest now, pace matching the desperation in her voice. 

“You didn’t touch yourself on the mission, baby?”, he asks as his right hand reaches between her legs. “You kept your promise?”

“Yes,” her voice breaks. She’s worried if she works herself against his hand he’ll take it away. “No one but you”.

“That’s right, not even your own hands.” He kisses her shoulder, bites a little against the fabric. “Let’s get you out of this.” She moves with him, lifts herself to take off his shirt. He’s not holding her down anymore, she could get him on his back, ride him to her heart’s contentment, but she doesn’t even try. She trusts him to give her pleasure. His metal arm is under her again, around her side, and now his fingers reach for her nipples. He pinches one then the other, grabs and kneads and she just pants his name over and over.

His flesh and bone hand drags her underwear off in a flash, and his fingers are at her pussy again. He’s not just teasing her clit anymore, he’s working her open. One finger for a long moment, then two, then three, she’s stretched so wide. His fingers drive her crazy, caressing every part he can reach.

“Oh, my god,” she gasps loudly, suddenly. His fingers, still hooked inside her, pull her ass onto his dick. He pulled her with his fingers in her pussy, the movement equal parts careful and violent, and the realization makes her let out a long moan.

“I watched you every night. Holy fuck, it drove me insane. Just watching you and not coming, waiting for you to be here. I wanna fuck you so hard, baby. Wanna come inside.”

She stretches her neck back. She wants to kiss the words out of his filthy mouth, but he’s just out of her way. She turns her head forward, pulls his metal hand off her breasts and kiss his palm. She kisses and licks his fingertips, pulls two fingers into her mouth and sucks and moans like her life depends on it.

He grunts behind her, bites hard at her neck. His breath is hot, but damn him, his voice is so sexy, so in command. “I’m gonna need my hand back for a second, okay?”

She honest to God whimpers, but he doesn’t wait for a response anyway. He pulls his fingers out and she feels like crying for a moment before he shoves them back inside her. She clamps her thighs around his hand, she really is frustrated now.

She understands why he needed his hand when she felt his cock warm and thick against her back, finally released from the thin fabric of his boxer briefs. Her pussy is full but now she wants him deep inside her ass. She wants him everywhere. His cock is wet against her crack, rubbing her hole with every move.  She really, really wants him insider her, but she can tell he’s close from his breathing and the pace of his hips. His moans are bringing her closer, she feels herself tightening around his fingers over and over. She’s panting loudly now, moaning and trying to catch her breath. She sees white when he says, “gonna come, baby. Come with me.”

And she does, hard and long around his fingers, tears are now running down her face. She feels him come, hot and sticky on her back, and his sounds send her pussy into another wave of convulsions.

She pulls his hand out from between her legs, takes his fingers to her mouth and licks him clean. She feels him shivering still behind her, panting into her back before he starts kissing her again. They both still for a moment, each in the haze of their own pleasure, their breathing loud in the quiet room. It’s a little past dawn now, it’s light outside. She can hear birds chirping.

He finally shifts around behind her, and a few seconds later she feels his shirt against her back, wiping his come away.

She moans a little, points her toes down and stretches her arms above her head, still facing away from him. “What happened to coming inside, huh?” she teases.

He laughs into her shoulder, comfortable and relaxed, his hand squeezing her ass once. “Baby, if I got inside you, that would’ve been the most embarrassing performance of all time”.

She can’t help but laugh. It’s a miracle they’re still alive, still together.

He pulls her back into his chest again, arm around her waist. “Let me make it up to you. After breakfast.”

She nods.

 

 


End file.
